(Scandal)
It was time for Max to meet with Doctor Michael Fischer on Tuesday morning. He had been at this facility for a while but had yet to be on the opposite floor. Typically, it was strictly off-limits, except for specific conditions. Max was a security level 1, nonviolent offender with no prior criminal history up until the incident that had landed him here. He was not deemed a threat to be on this floor, and he proved it. He approached the guard desk, which was staffed by Correction Officer Templeton, who smiled at him as he came up to the desk.
Templeton greeted Max with a warm smile. “Hey, Max, I saw your name on the log. I guess you must be going to see Doctor Fischer.”
Max grinned back and handed him his badge. His paperwork was in a manilla envelope under his arm. The guard scanned the badge and waited for it to print him out a guest identification for the floor.
The guard said, “You can just stick this on your shirt and throw it away when you come back on this side. What have you got in the envelope?”
Max said, “It’s my paperwork for the doctor. Do you need to see it?”
Templeton smiled again. “No, if you have started lying, that would be the first I have heard about it. Just go through the clinic, about three-quarters of the way back on the left. Be careful and don’t miss it, as it is cleverly disguised by a big sign that reads, “Medical Clinic” right above it.”
Max said, “Thank you, Officer Templeton.”
Templeton said, “Piece of advice?”
The slave said, “Only a fool doesn’t take advice from men like you, Officer Templeton.”
Templeton said, “Over on this floor, they may look like disarming kids, but they are meaner than shit. Just ignore them, let the staff deal with them.”
Max said, “Yes, Sir.”
The door buzzed, and he went through. It looked slightly different over here. There were no cells. It looked more like a hospital wing, with evenly spaced heavy wooden doors. He just went down the hallway. Several people looked like kids around. Several tried to speak to him, but he ignored them and went on.
One of them said, “What a rude asshole!”
Max grinned and went right along. About halfway down the hall, there was a guard station. The guards nodded at him, and he nodded back as he passed. He reached the medical office and went in. It looked like any other doctor’s office. There was a window with a couple of nurses behind it. He walked up and waited to be acknowledged.
Finally, a blond nurse looked at him and said, “Hey, sweetie, what can I do for you.”
He tried to be funny: “Yes, Ma’am. I am Max Stapleton from da other side. I have an appointment with Dr. Fischer.”
She giggled and asked, “Is this your first visit, and is that your paperwork?”
Max said, “Yes, Ma’am.”
She continued, “Just slide your paperwork through that slit down below where I am standing, and I need your badge as well. I need to scan it, and I will return it.?
He slid the paperwork through, took his badge off, and slid it through. She scanned it and looked at the screen.
The nurse asked, “You said you are Maxwell Stapleton?”
He said, “Yes, Ma’am, I just go by Max.”
She slid his badge back through, and he took it and put it back on.
She smiled, “Okay, Max, just have a seat out there, and you will be called to the black door over there.”
He didn’t have to wait long, and the black door opened. A man wearing a suit minus the coat opened the door. He was a pleasant-looking fellow who was probably in his late forties or early fifties and had a complete set of gray hair. He looked around the room. There were several people in here, but he zeroed in on Max.
He said, “I bet you are Max, come on.”
Max got up and followed him down a hall to a friendly, plush office. Just inside the door, he had one of those wave machines running.
The man said, “Just pick a chair, Max, and have a seat.”
Max did, and surprisingly, he didn’t go behind his desk. He pulled a chair over close to Max, but not invasively so. He sat down and read his responses to the questions on the paperwork.
He spoke as he read, “I am Doctor Michael Fischer. You can call me Michael or Doctor Fischer. I am not particular about that. Goodness, your state IQ testing is through the roof. Then I see that your favorite alphabet letter is A, as that is all you seem to make in your classes.”
A bit about me: “I went to Duke University, and I hold an M.D. in neurology and an M.D. in psychiatry. Thankfully, I have one kid who has reached the age to move off to college. Now, how about you tell me, in your own words, why you are in the wonderful facility? Just be honest. You will not offend me.”
Max told him precisely what had happened, about the homeless man dying. His friends were doing what they had done, and he had a recent episode that he had to say he was having difficulty remembering.
Dr. Fisher looked at him appraisingly and put a finger to his chin.
He asked Max, “You have nightmares?”
Max said, “Frequently.”
The psychiatrist asked, “Do you feel depressed or anxious?”
Max said, “I feel a bit anxious sometimes. They keep me busy here.”
Micheal said, “How’s your appetite, Max?”
Max said, “It’s good most of the time, but I have acid and heartburn quite a bit.”
Next, the Dr. asked, “Do you have any other periods you don’t remember? Like reading a book and not remembering starting?”
Max said, “No, Dr. Fischer, my memory is usually good.”
Micheal asked, “Let me guess, you find yourself constantly worrying?”
Max asked, “How did you know that?”
Dr. Fischer smiled at him, “I have been at this a minute or two. Do you have panic attacks?”
Max said, “Yes, sir, I feel overwhelmed sometimes and just shut down.”
Michael Fischer looked serious, “Max, do you know anything about PTSD?”
Max said, “I have read some stuff, sir, so just the basics.”
The psychiatrist said, “I am not like many psychiatrists with top-secret diagnoses. I tell my patients because they have a right to be informed.”
Max said, “Okay.”
Michael smiled and said, "I will change your medication. I will take you off Clonazepam and put you on Xanax with an increased dosage. You can take it as needed or skip a dosage if you don't need it. You will be taking 3mg of Xanax a day so that you can take one every 8 hours. I will also prescribe Ambien CR 12.5mg for sleep. Take it when you are ready to bed, and have at least six hours to sleep. I will increase your Trintellix to 10mg/day and add another antidepressant called Bupropion."
He handed Max several RX scripts.
Max said, “Thank you.”
Michael said, “Now, Max, you turn those in at the clinic on your side in exchange for those pills. I want to see you back in 30 days.”
He handed him an appointment slip.
Max said, “Thank you.”
Dr. Fischer told Max, "I am diagnosing you with PTSD. You also have a generalized anxiety disorder, and you are on the spectrum of depression. Dr. Ensign and I need to see you multiple times before determining the severity of your condition. It is nothing to worry about or be ashamed of. It is all very treatable, as people call it the Fischer Specialty. You witnessed a man's death after being in a car accident that caused it. One would be rather dense to think that was not traumatic. Being in a corrections facility at the age of 18 is also traumatic. I suspect you have witnessed other distressing events as well."
Max just looked down.
Dr. Fischer reached over and patted him on the leg. He said, “It’s okay. Max, you need to trust me. Now you will be provided with a phone. That’s to call me or Dr. Ensign at any hour. It sucks for sleep, but it is part of our job description. So, you have a good day, and I will see you in 30 days. Ensign and I are good at this. You could not be in better hands.”
He left the office and felt numb with a handful of paperwork to give the clinic on his side. He liked that guy and believed he was good at it. He returned to his side and got the medicine he would no longer be on. He went to the clinic, and they gave him all the new stuff and a cell phone with two numbers.
He exited the clinic and ran into Jonesy, who said, “Dang, Max, you are a hard man to track down. The FBI lady is here for you. She has some people with her. Go put your meds and phone away, and I will take you to her.”
He was taken to the large lunchroom, where agents Troy and Flemming sat. They had a young man with them that seemed familiar. As he came in, the young man said something in her ear and was dismissed to another room.
He sat down, “Hello, Agents Troy and Flemming.”
Agent Troy was good at reading people, “What’s wrong, Max?”
He looked at the wall, kind of, “I just saw a new psychiatrist. They say I have PTSD, Anxiety Disorder, and Depression.”
She looked at him caringly. “I am not surprised. You know, FBI agents have college degrees. I have a Master’s in Psychology. You saw Dr. Fischer?”
He said, “Yes.”
Agent Troy said, “Well, Max, he would know as he’s a good doctor. Will you do me a favor?”
Max said, “Sure, Agent Troy.”
She said, “I will show you some pictures, and you tell me if you recognize any of them?”
He said, “Okay.”
She laid down three pictures: Daniel Williams, Jack Nelson, and Roosevelt Khan.
He pointed to Daniel Williams, “He looks very familiar. I am not sure of the other two.”
She said, “What if I told you I had an eyewitness and a security camera from a private home? It’s on the far side of the house. Along with Mark Wright, these three spent a weekend, and you are seen entering and leaving. Can you tell me anything about that?”
He thought, damn, she’s a good investigator, that didn’t take long.
He said, “It is clear I was where Mark Wright was. DNA doesn’t lie. That one looks familiar. “He locked up.
She pushed him a little, “Did you recognize the young man in the room with us when you came in?”
He didn’t fully recall him, “No, Ma’am.”
Agent Troy was persistent, “Max, what if I told you he was a pizza delivery driver who saw you on three different occasions in this residence, naked, with all of these other gentlemen?”
Fuck Max thought she wasn’t taking any prisoners. He was having trouble breathing.
He said, “Air?”
She said, “Do you have medication for that?”
Jonesy was back at the door and said, “He had a whole bunch of pills he put in his room when I got him.”
Agent Troy said, “Will you get them, please?”
He was back with the lockbox in a few minutes, and Max opened it.
Agent Troy came around and began looking at them. She handed him a 1mg Xanax. They got him a glass of water and gave him about twenty minutes for that to work.
Agent Troy watched him as he sat there, and she knew what had happened. He or Mark Wright would finger the others. This would blow that damn Governor up. It was just a matter of time. That was it. She motioned Jonesy over and whispered with him. He left again and returned with Mark Wright in just a few minutes.
When he saw her, he looked scared, good, “You come over here, now!”
Mark walked over to the table where Max was seated, and the pictures were lying on the table.
She asked him, “Look who all we’ve found, Mark Wright, your buddies?”
Mark said, “You will get nowhere near Khan, his father’s the Governor.”
Agent Troy grinned, “You have identified one, but now you can identify the other two. Or I will get on my cell phone and call that Federal Prosecutor. And then we will see if that dime store lawyer of yours can handle impeding a federal investigation. What do you think?”
He told them the names and sat down at a table. Jonesy took Max back to his cell while they grilled Mark. Agent Phyllis Troy was as ruthless as he had been.
Max was trying to think they would get back to him. He could control the damage from the witness stand. He did not know about the camera and had been too drunk to remember the pizza guy.
His Master watched as he walked, as he never did, with his shoulders slumped over. He came into the cell and put the box back in its place.
His Master sat him down on the bottom bunk of their beds.
He asked, “What’s wrong, Max?”
Max said numbly, “That FBI lady is like a force of nature.”
His Master sat beside him and hugged him, “Yeah, she’s a spitfire.”
His slave said, “I am going to have to change strategy. She got ahead of me. I am going to have to tell them all. I can’t control this but on the back end in court.”
His master leaned him back and began undoing his pants, and soon had his cock and balls free. He said, “My good-natured little slave, you just need to calm down.”
His Master leaned down and began to lick on his cock and balls. The effect was electric, bringing him out of the nervousness. He slowly licked around his head, and it started making his body respond. It was clear he had to be completely honest with her. He was out of his element with anything but the truth. Khan and Jack would be okay, but this would fry the governor. He didn’t even know the man he was elected while he was in here.
His Master began to slowly suck his cock, and this was a first. Even if it were only this once, he would take it. It felt good, and it was helping him to stabilize. His Master had taken a big hand and put it on his chest and was holding him in place as he worked up and down his cock.
His slave said, “Oh, that feels so good.”
His Master built up some speed. He was very capable of doing this. He continued to lick and suck on his cock, and it was feeling good. He hadn’t realized how badly he needed this. He lay there and let the big man have his way, and it wasn’t long before he was starting to tingle. The Master worked and worked and was not letting up. He finally began coming into the big man’s mouth, who continued working at it.
After he had shot his load, the big man pulled to the top, licked his head furiously, and held him in place.
Max could not help but squirm around a bit, but the Master was solid and could easily hold him. Finally, he eased up and let his slave lean back up. Max put his cock away and began zipping back up. He was breathing hard, and his Master looked at him, grinning.
The Master asked, “Is that better?”
His slave answered him, “Tons better, thank you.”
His Master said, “Goodness knows you have spotted me a few times. They will be back after you, so get your game cap on. You are the smartest person I know and will do well.”
His slave said, “This place is always such a bitch. I just got back from seeing the psychiatrist and hadn’t even made it back when that bullshit fell out of the sky.”
Master asked, “What did the good Dr. Fischer have to say?”
His slave said, “Apparently, I have Herpes every single simplex of it, so I guess you are shit out of luck.”
His Master laughed.
The slave said, “He thinks PTSD, Generalized Anxiety Disorder, and some form of depression. The understanding is coming to a theatre near you.”
His Master said, “I am not surprised, ah, here’s Jonesy. They must have already broke limp dick.”
Jonesy stuck his head in the door, “Max, The Closer, Kira Sedgwick wants you.”
As they went back into the lunchroom, he was much calmer. He came in and sat down.
Agent Troy asked, “Feel better?”
Max calmly said, “Yes, thank you, Agent Troy.”
Agent Troy said, “We know now that Mark Wright, Daniel Williams, Jack Nelson, and Roosevelt Khan, the Governor’s son, had you for a weekend at one of the Governor’s homes. We have more than enough to go after them now, and $20 says Governor Khan will be job searching quickly. I believe in being thorough. What can you tell me?”
She put the recorder up on the table and turned it on.
Max said, “I can remember the house,” He pointed to each of their pictures and spoke their names. Then, “They gave me lots of alcohol, some is not clear. I did not remember seeing the pizza guy. This is embarrassing as all get out.”
He still needed the Warden in place, but he could give her enough fuel to power a rocket to the moon.
Agent Troy said, “Max, it is okay. There were four of them, and unless my arithmetic is inaccurate, only one of you. You would be amazed at what my partner and I must deal with. We have your account of what Mark Wright did. Surprise, his story matches it. He’s going to be in jail for a while. Just tell us what you can recall. These people cannot be allowed to act in such a manner. If they are under some false assumption a Governor’s office or money will shield them, they don’t watch the news too much.”
Max said, “The best I can recall is that it was a great deal like what you hear happening at a bad hazing. I entertained them over the weekend. Some were worse than others. I mean, Mark Wright was the worst. I am just confused. I had to scare Daniel Williams with the fact I belonged to a prison gang, and if he hurt me, they would hunt him down.”
Agent Troy placed a legal pad on the table, “How did he threaten you?”
Max looked down, “He had me tied up as he used me for sex. He was talking about choking me to death.”
Agent Troy reached over and put her hand on his shoulder. “You see, in the legal realm, we call that rape and a felony. He can bunk with Mark Wright.”
She asked, “Of these individuals, how many had sexual relations with you?”
Max was still looking down, “All of them several times. I don’t have an exact count.”
She said, “We were informed they had a nickname for you. Is that true?”
Max said, “Yeah, for the most part, I was referred to as prison bitch the entirety of the weekend.”
She said, “They were even dumb enough to say this in front of the pizza guy. How often were you naked over the weekend?”
Max said, “The whole time.”
She was writing furiously, “Goddamned are these young men going to be unhappy to see me.”
Max said, “Roosevelt Khan and Jack Nelson were not as bad and were sometimes friendly.”
Agent Troy said, “That’s what people who were done like you always say. They refer to it as Stockholm Syndrome. How did you get there, Max? I want to ensure everyone who deserves it gets what they deserve.”
Max was telling the truth as he had given his word, “Ma’am, I really can’t say. There are gaps in my memory from the alcohol. I don’t know where that house is nor recall the pizza man.”
They interviewed him for over seven hours about the good or not-so-good details. She spoke with a Federal Prosecutor and a Federal Judge on the phone.
She looked at her partner, “They are issuing warrants for every one of these fuckers. Watch this magic.”
She called her sister, “Yeah Elena, it’s me, little birdy time. Fucking Governor’s son and three other boys had a state inmate at one of his houses over the weekend. There’s even some video evidence that might magically get into your inbox. You didn’t hear this from me.”
Agent Troy told Max to go to his cell and get some rest. They would be back, and he would be subject to being deposed and may be put on a witness stand.
She told Max before he left the room, “Mr. Stapleton, you have an unbeatable juggernaut of a fucking lawsuit against all these individuals. The State of Illinois, the City of Chicago, and that fucking corrupt assed Governor. Lawyers will pray you call them. Hearing your voice on their phone is a miracle to them. I know where you will be, and I will be back. Sorry for this experience.”
After all that time, he finally returned to the cell and sat down. Soon, an extensive, robust set of hands was on his shoulders.
His Master asked, “Are you okay?”
Max said, “The torpedoes struck the target successfully. I have my get-out-of-jail-free card. Now, to get everyone else. Agent Troy might begin shooting people. I have never seen such a pissed-off law enforcement officer before. Fucking Warden’s lucky, but it’s about to run out.”
His Master asked, “What happened?”
Max said, “The House down the road with no view of the driveway had security cameras. She had the film. Fuck I will be all over the news; I don’t have the protection of being a minor anymore.”
His Master asked, “So what’s next?”
Max said, “When I get ready to torpedo the Warden, the torpedo is Agent Troy. Fucking Clyde Owens and Johnny Eubanks think they are bad, and she would bitch smack them into next week. Then probably bust some caps in them.”
His muscular Master began laughing again, “You want to take some of that nervous frustration out sucking my big cock? I have been sitting here horny, waiting for super bitch to wreck the Governor finally.
He followed his Master over to the lower bunk and knelt. The big man had his cock and balls out faster than a thief could deploy a switchblade. He licked up and down the length of it and then began going down on it. It was easy with that big hand on the back of his head helping him. He used his tongue all over it and pushed till it was down in his throat.
The Master wanted to get off, and sucking his big cock relaxed him, so he began to work it thoroughly. His master would relax his hand as he slid up it and push on him as he was going down it. He was not wasting any time and was already getting precum. The big guy was horny, and this was making him feel good. What made Max good at this was the same thing that made him good at most other things. He was fucking relentless, and like the slogan of the Terminator movie, he absolutely, positively would not stop until he got you off. Ever.
The big man said, “Fuck Yes, get that cock, slave, and suck it good just like that.”
He looked up at his Master, and he worked and worked away at it.
He slurped away on it and added, “Uhm, Um.”
He worked it like this for about twenty minutes without once slowing down, and he finally was rewarded for his hard work. His Master busted his nut and started flooding his mouth with his cum.
Master urged, “That right, slave, slurp and swallow that down for me.”
He would always work the shaft and head of his cock till he was all the way as he was ejaculating and then a bit beyond. He would never go beyond when it got sensitive. He knew that his Master would begin to breathe faster if he went too long, and Max was observant.
He pulled from it and laid his head down beside his cock and balls and let it rest on his big leg. His Master laid a big hand down on the side of his face.
Max asked, “Better now?”
His Master sounded pleased, “Fuck yes, that felt so good.”
His slave told him, “I will never grow tired of making you feel good.”
Richard Koufax said, “We are a good match because I will never tire of you doing it. We take care of each other.”
The Slave thought, now to see what happens when you torpedo a big boat. He was sure it would be interesting.
